


No Place Like This

by lemortedmerthur (WhichWolfWins)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Home Improvement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/pseuds/lemortedmerthur
Summary: “Home is not a place…it’s a feeling.”Merlin and Arthur get their first flat together with "a little" help from their friends.





	No Place Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Camelittle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/gifts).



> This is a gift for camelittle who I got for the Merlin Holidays secret santa!
> 
> One of their ideas was a fun Christmas decor war and it inspired this instead. I hope you like it!

Guinevere sat sipping tea, knees tucked in awkwardly under the table while a tornado spun its way through Merlin’s apartment.

“Wash ou,” Merlin said, bumping past Arthur, all elbows as he curved his body to avoid the trinkets cabinet, while at the same time yanking a jumper over his pronounced ears, all the while trying to keep the toothbrush in his mouth from dislodging. 

“Oi,” Arthur spun, trying to dodge a flailing hand on his way to the bathroom. 

“‘Scuse em,” Merlin carefully slurred, stepping over Gwen’s feet where they stuck out from beneath the bizarrely tiny table surely intended for a patio and not the dining table/mail storage place it had become. 

“Merlin, have you seen my red tie?” called Arthur from the hall. 

“Wsh on?” Merlin whipped his head toward the table where a deep red tie the colour of wine dangled over the edge of the blue mosaic tiles, nearly brushing the lino. 

“You know, the one with the little…” Arthur scratched at something on his blazer with a look of displeasure that quickly morphed into one of disgust. He looked to Merlin who stood 3 strides away in the bathroom, the distance it took to cross the entirety of the flat from the back end to the front door. “Is this toothpaste?” 

“Nah mine!” Merlin said. He finished in the sink, rinsed the brush, and dropped it into a cup before realizing it had been Arthur’s steaming cup of earl gray. He winced and met Gwen’s eyes before tucking it behind a tower of plates hanging dangerously over the edge of the counter. 

“I haven’t brushed yet, so it’s certainly not mine!” Arthur whinged. “Never mind.” He pulled off the blazer and flung it on top of the pile of Merlin’s clothes that reached at least a foot above where the hamper ended. “Why do you have so much clothes?! You only wear like three shirts!” 

“I do not,” Merlin grumbled under his breath. _It’s all his_ , Merlin mouthed conspiratorially to her while whipping together another cup for Arthur. 

Guinevere laughed into her mug and Arthur shot her a searing look. 

“What? What did he say?” 

“Nothing,” she lied, and giggled some more. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and stomped into the room where even more clothes decorated the foot of Merlin’s bed which ended just inside the doorway. He forced the closet door open and stood on the edge of the mattress to rifle for a new blazer. 

Guinevere studied Merlin where he leaned against the counter, his elbow hanging just shy of a plate topped with dry mustard. “You know it’s time, right?” 

Merlin glanced at her as if he didn’t know what he meant, but realization dawned when she gestured toward the rest of the flat. She set her cup down on the table and the meer act sent a tidal wave of magazines sliding onto the chair on the other side and a select few pooled on the floor beside Gwen’s feet. 

“It’s a bit… quaint, for two of you.” 

“He doesn’t live here,” Merlin objected feebly, and even he couldn’t help but smile about how terrible the lie was 

“Well maybe he should,” Gwen offered, taking up her cup again. She went to sip, but pulled the cup away. “I mean, not here, no! But with you! Somewhere… else.” This time she took a long drink and left Merlin to mull over her words. 

Arthur bustled into the hallway, kicking his foot trying to dislodge a pair of boxers that had hooked onto his shoe. He went into the bathroom and came out a minute later to pull on a pair of red-brown wingtips and button up a different white shirt over his torso. This one had almost invisible thin lines of gold that shimmered as he came into the kitchen, blazer folded over his elbow. He took a long, deep pull off his cuppa and handed it to Merlin to finish, then he leaned in to press a kiss to Merlin’s cheek. 

Merlin turned into the kiss and his hand fluttered up to smooth a wisp of Arthur’s golden hair down in the meantime. 

Warmth revealed itself on Merlin’s face as he pulled away and Arthur cleared his throat as he let his eyes flicker over to Gwen. Her cheeks bloomed with a smile. 

“I’ll see you later?” Merlin wondered, handing him a bag of lunch. 

“I…” Arthur spotted the tie on the table and tugged it free from beneath one of Merlin’s new age-y books. He looped it over his neck and smoothed his hand down the length of it, dusting what looked like powdered sugar from the end. He was busying his hands, Guinevere noted, seeing the way he worked his jaw, thinking how to word what he was going to say next. “I’ll call you,” he eventually settled on. He avoided Guinevere’s gaze, knowing full well that she could read him like a book, and went to the door. 

“Goodbye, Guinevere,” he said. “Merlin.” 

The door slipped closed and Gwen met Merlin’s eyes. They immediate burst with laughter. 

“I don’t know how you two do it,” Guinevere said once they’d sobered. 

Merlin drank from the cuppa Arthur had left with him. “Do what?” 

“Live in denial of what you are to each other!” 

“We’re not in denial,” Merlin laughed forcefully. 

“Oh? So he’s your boyfriend?” Gwen asked, a spark in her eye - she was a woman on a mission. 

Merlin’s cheeks immediately coloured and he turned away to busy his hands with dishes. “I mean... he’s not… not my boyfriend.” He scrubbed roughly at some plates. “We don’t need labels.” 

“I know you don’t need labels,” Gwen said. “But I know you both well enough to know you need labels.” 

She stood up and took her jacket off the back of the chair. She slid her arms inside and buttoned the large purple buttons all the way up to the rounded collar. “Oh! Speaking of flats! I saw an advert for a flat on my street! Let’s go check it out!” 

“Were we talking about flats?” Merlin furrowed his brow, but Guinevere was already pulling him out the door. 

* * *

It was getting cold enough out now that they could see their breath in light puffs of air as they stood wiggling in place trying to keep warm. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” Merlin murmured under his breath. The bottom parts of his ears kept slipping out from beneath his hat and he tugged it down yet again while he watched the roads impatiently. 

“He said he’d be here,” Gwen said, but even she was beginning to get impatient, bouncing on her knees to keep them from getting stiff. Her curls were tucked into a thick white scarf she’d made last winter. She’d made Merlin a matching black one, but he hadn’t had the chance to grab it as she’d dragged him from his flat. 

“Why am I still here?” Merlin wondered out loud. 

“Because I have just the place you’re looking for,” a man’s voice said from behind them. 

Merlin and Gwen turned to see an older man on the sidewalk. They hadn’t heard him approach - it was as if he’d simply appeared there. His eyes looked almost lizard-like as he smiled at them over a rust orange scarf woven through with shades of green and brown. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, leading the way up the stairs. He unlocked one of the heavy, wooden double doors at the top of the stoop and stepped aside underneath a plaque that read _Chateau Avalon_. “Shall we get a look at your future?” 

Gwen smiled kindly at the man as they passed through the door. Merlin on the other hand was a bit more reluctant to follow as the man let them in. He looked like a snake, Merlin thought, but shook his head. A dragon, he decided, as the man held the shiny gold door knob in his almost talon-like long fingers. 

Any thought about the man and really anything else slipped from his mind as he stepped through the doors and his eyes went up and kept going until they reached the top of the vaulted room where a chandelier lit the ceiling like it was the glowing entrance to heaven. 

“Wow,” Guinevere sighed, and the sound slid through the room before coming back to them in a whisper. 

A stairway extended before them that curved as it rose behind a beautiful light stone wall on the first storey, bisecting the floor level of the flat into two sections. To the left was the recreational area, lined with tall, rounded windows that were formed in the same stone as the stairs. The room extended to the back half of the flat. There they found a kitchen lined with glittering black granite countertops. Merlin was mesmerized by the shine of the stone with its rivers of silver and gold running through it. 

Circling around to the right side of the house coming off the kitchen was a lovely nook. Separated from the front half of the house with a set of doors, Merlin could immediately imagine the room filled with his friends. The image was so vivid, he could almost hear their laughter in the enclosed space. 

“Merlin,” Guinevere said, touching his hand gently as she passed by him. “There’s a garden back there.” 

It was hard to ignore the garden once you noticed it through the glass. It looked like a forest at first glance, the way the woods seemed to creep into the flowered space, but it made Merlin love it all the more. The fenced yard stretched all the way back into a wooded area that looked to have no closing gate, but Gharrah assured them that there was one, “somewhere”. 

Closer to the house, there was a stone bench beside a trellis woven with flowering vines and a small pond Merlin was startled to find two koi fish inside, one with splotches of orange mostly over run with black and one that was purely white.. 

“The owner felt remiss to remove them from the pond, but will do so if you are uncomfortable taking on the responsibility,” Gharrah said. 

They proceeded back inside and followed the older man up stairs to the bedrooms. 

* * *

“There is no way I can afford that,” Merlin waved at the flat as they let themselves out. He blew into his hands and cupped his ears to warm them. 

“Maybe you can’t alone,” Guinevere said, “but Arthur certainly can. And if I remember correctly…” she peered round and her eyes lit up as they landed on the For Rent sign tucked haphazardly beside a rubbish bin out front. “Ah-hah!” She pointed at the image of a castle. “Camelot Realty! His father owns it!” 

Merlin scoffed and tucked his hands under his arms. “Even worse! His father hates me!” 

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Does not. He hates everything; not you in particular, Merlin. But he does love his son and he’d be chuffed if he knew he was ready to move out of the dingy bachelor pad he shares with 5 of his mates.” 

She had that right, Merlin gave her that. Uther Pendragon had laughed for an uncomfortably long time upon discovering Arthur had moved into an old house with Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Lance. It was a wonder the place had been standing when they’d first signed the lease. Four years later and they’d fixed it up here and there, but it was no place for that many men at that age in their lives. One drunken toss up in the kitchen had led to one less wall into the loo just last year. They were bull in a china shop. 

“Even so, Arthur would never agree to it,” Merlin said, falling into step alongside Gwen as they made their way back to his single-sized flat. 

“Oh, I think he just might,” Guinevere said. She took his hand in her’s and gave it a squeeze. Merlin looked at her and saw that patented twinkle in her chocolate eyes. 

“Gwen, what do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” she said and mimed zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key. 

“No, Gwen, what have you done?” 

Gwen started to giggle and ran away. 

“Gwen! What have you done!?” Merlin shouted after her retreating back. 

He chased the sound of her bubbling laughter. 

* * *

“Morgana. This is a surprise.” 

Morgana Pendragon pushed off Arthur’s shining white Bentley, her raven black hair slipping off her shoulder. “Not as big a surprise as finding out that you’re still stringing poor Merlin along.” 

Arthur huffed, loosened his tie, and released the locks on the doors. “What are you on about now?” 

“Gwen called,” she said, slipping into Arthur’s car and turning to face him head on. “She says Merlin’s taken in a stray.” 

“Guinevere did not say that,” Arthur retorted, rolling his eyes as he pulled out of his parking space and steered them onto the city street. 

“Well, it’s really the only thing he could fit in that flat of his, is it not?” 

“Morgana-” he started in his ‘get to the point’ voice, but Morgana was already barrelling on. 

“Gwen and I found a flat that we think you should take,” she said. “According to Gwen, Merlin loves it, too. I knew he would,” she said, giving a self-satisfied smile. “And you, I guess,” she added as an afterthought. “But it’s not going to last long and dad said he’ll only hold it for a couple days.” 

Arthur shot her a look, taken by complete surprise. “He what? You… you found a flat? Why… Did Merlin put you up to this?” 

“No, but he should have. I can’t believe you, Arthur. You would live in complete denial of your feelings for the rest of your life if you weren’t forced to face them.” 

“That’s not-” 

Morgana held up her hand, along with a sharp eyebrow. “It’s not?” 

“Okay, it’s true, but-” 

“But nothing, Arthur. You love Merlin, right? And if you love Merlin, you’ll do this for him. For both of you.” 

Just then, they pulled up to Arthur’s flat. Without thinking, he’d driven them to Merlin’s building. As he looked out the window at the weathered wood door, more brown than blue from paint, he felt Morgana’s eyes burning into him. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Arthur, and you don’t have to worry so much! Merlin loves you - he’s more than proven that. He puts up with you, after all, and if that’s not love, than love doesn’t exist.” 

Morgana reached out and shook Arthur’s elbow. “He loves you,” she reassured him. “You would have to be blind, deaf, and mute not to know that.” 

“When did my sister become a matchmaker?” Arthur said, pulling himself free of her grasp and climbing out of the car. Morgana popped out a moment later and flung something at him across the top of the car. Arthur caught it on instinct. It jingled in his hand. He knew before looking down that he’d find a key. 

* * *

The move wasn’t as instantaneous as Merlin had initially thought upon discovering the key in Arthur’s suit coat one laundry day, until one day, it was happening and he didn’t even know it. 

“Do you really need this?” Arthur asked, holding up a coloured purple bottle among the myriad other coloured bottles cluttering up the display case that took up ½ the space of the sitting room. 

“What? Of course I do,” Merlin said, taking the bottle out of Arthur’s hand and closing it back inside the cabinet. “They’re from Gaius. They were his great great great… great? Somebody’s medicine bottles from the medieval times!” 

“What even is this?” Arthur asked on another day, kicking an old wooden box sealed closed with straps of leather. 

“It holds my important documents,” Merlin told him, peering up from his book on buried treasure finds. “Gaius said it might’ve once held a goblin,” he added before going back to reading. Arthur sighed and let it go. 

“Argh!” Arthur cried out one morning, then there was a loud thud in the hall. Merlin came running into the sitting room to find Arthur laying sideways through the door frame. Entangled in his legs was a long, wooden staff topped with a large blue stone. 

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, helping him up off the floor. 

Arthur grimaced as he revealed a spot of rug burn on his elbow. Two more were on his knees to match. He glared at Merlin. “Why do you have that?” 

“I found it at a flea market! The man said it may have belonged to an actual fairy!” 

Arthur stilled his search for other injuries and looked up at Merlin. “I’m starting to think you might actually be a hoarder!” 

“I’m an historian, Arthur - there’s a difference!” 

“Yes, Merlin, there is! Historians don’t actually take the history home with them.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and went back to forming cauliflower into pizza crust. 

* * *

The next day, Merlin came home to a moving van.. “Gwaine?” Merlin frowned at the kitchen table hitched over the brunette's muscled shoulder. 

“Merlin!” Gwaine grinned and reached out to hook his free arm around him. “How’s it going?” 

“What are you doing with my table?” 

“Moving it to Chateau Avalon,” Gwaine said, wiggling his eyebrows. He stepped up into the van and, either he misjudged the distance or loosened his grip, because a moment later there was a loud crack and clatter on the pavement as the small table hit the ground. 

Gwaine looked first at the table, then next up at Merlin, his mouth formed in a silent gasp. 

“Gwaine!” Arthur shouted before Merlin could, leaning out the window from the middle floor flat. “You’re clumsier than Merlin!” 

“Oi!” Merlin shouted back. 

Arthur stilled, not having noticed him there. “Oh, Merlin. You’re back.” 

“Yes. I _do_ still live here, don’t I?” 

Arthur rubbed at the back of his neck. “There’s not much still left up here, but it’s enough to get through the night.” 

There was a giggle behind Merlin and he turned to look back at Gwaine who was trying to smother a laugh behind his hand. 

“Hello, Merlin,” Elyan’s strained voice said from the building doorway. 

Merlin turned to find Elyan, Percival, and Leon struggling to maneuver his display cabinet out the door while keeping the rickety doors from flying off. 

“Hello!” Percival said from beneath the bulk of it. 

“Afternoon!” Leon called, before crying out as Elyan accidentally placed one of the cabinet corners on his toes. 

“Afternoon,” he said faintly. Once the doorway was free, he drifted up the stairs to his barren rooms. 

* * *

“Merlin?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you awake?” 

“Mhm.” 

There was a bustle of movement beside him, then Arthur flicked on a dim lamp in the corner of the room. There wasn’t much missing from the room besides a few knick knacks that had once lined the window-sill and bags of clothes they had decided needed donating, but there hadn’t been much in there before now, anyhow. The mattress took up the whole of the space and was one of the few remaining items still remaining in the flat, along with a pizza in the kitchen and a few boxes of books to head out with them come morning. 

Arthur rolled over and faced Merlin in their shared bed, the one thing that, up until now, could fit the both of them comfortably in the whole place. 

Propping himself up on his elbow, Arthur searched for Merlin’s waist. His fingers slipped under the soft fabric of Merlin’s shirt and he brushed his thumb back and forth across Merlin’s warm skin. 

Merlin blinked at him, shaking himself out of the panicked thoughts that Arthur had felt even in the darkness of the bedroom. “What is it?” he said softly, feeling that this was a conversation to be treated with care. Up until this moment, the inner workings of the move had been solely done by their friends and family. Now, it seemed it was all catching up to them what this meant - a step toward an unspoken thing that they had been keeping circling around as if blind to it. The elephant was now unavoidable, it seemed. 

Arthur’s lashes were golden in the glow of the lamp and his eyes were skittish as he looked everywhere but Merlin’s searching eyes. 

“I want you to know that, though this is happening because Morgana and Guinevere read too many romance novels, it was already on my mind.” Now, Arthur’s clear eyes met with Merlin’s deep blue gaze and he swallowed. “You know I’m not one to say or do things lightly when it comes to… to love, but I love you, Merlin. You’re all I’ve ever wanted - god only knows why.” 

Merlin laughed, his eyes glittering, and Arthur couldn’t keep the smile from the corners of his lips. 

“And I can’t foresee a future for myself without you in it.” 

Now Arthur turned over and reached for something tucked underneath the mattress on his side. When he returned, there was a deeper warmth to his cheeks. 

He met Merlin’s eyes and swallowed again. “Will you do me the honor of moving into this flat with me?” he asked. He held up his hands and from a ring dangled a shining silver key. 

A burst of laughter escaped Merlin and he surged forward, enveloping Arthur into a smothering hug. 

“You really are a mop-head, you know that?” Merlin said, pulling back to look at Arthur. “Of course I will.” 

Arthur laughed. “A mop-head? Me?” He reached up and scrubbed his hand over Merlin’s own overgrown head of hair. “You’re truly forming a bird’s nest up here.” 

“What with the amount of eggs you eat, that might actually be a good thing,” Merlin retorted, reaching up to smooth down his hair. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled away. “Good night, Merlin,” he said. Holding Merlin’s waist, he reached over and flicked off the light once more, then pulled Merlin up against him. He buried his face in Merlin’s dark hair and pressed a kiss there. 

“I love you, too, Arthur,” Merlin said bravely. “Good night.” 

Arthur found Merlin’s lips in the dark and made sure of that. 

* * *

**One month later.**

* * *

The inexpensive chandelier at the top of the tower-like spiral stairs had been replaced by one adorned with dripping crystals, something Morgana had been unable to resist purchasing when given permission (“under coercion”) by a fairly reluctant Arthur and a somewhat intrigued Merlin upon witnessing the near purchase of a horrendously large wardrobe by Arthur. 

The chandelier was mostly clear quartz stones, broken up by the occasional sapphire, amber, emerald, ruby, and amethyst, giving off a burst of rainbow light on the walls. 

“One of a kind,” Morgana ensured. 

The curtains stretched up to the ceilings and pooled to the floors in billowing white fabric with stitches of gold thread shimmering through. 

The sofas and chairs, the only things Morgana agreed were allowed to be oversized, were reminiscent of the chandelier, in that they weren’t something from a catalogue - each piece was different from the last, dressed in a different colour of fabric, suited in a different pattern. 

In the same room, Merlin was pleased to find his display case hadn’t been tossed into the nearest scrap heap, but rather adorned with properly fitted wooden legs with rounded middle. She’d also replaced the knobs with two chrysoprase stones to match the new sage green paint job. 

The best part, they all agreed, was the dining table. A housewarming gift, Guinevere said, standing in their kitchen as Arthur helped Lance carry the weighty item inside. 

It was a beautiful, round table, fitted with rivets along the outer edge and topped with a smattering of sliced agate stones, revealing the marbled, myriad colours inside. 

“I made a bench and some chairs, too,” Guinevere said, her cheeks flush with warmth. 

Merlin threw his arms around Guinevere. The table, the flat, his friends - they were perfect. 

* * *

Seated around the table, surrounded by their friends and family bustling against each other as they sipped wine and ate the food Gwen and Lance prepared (with little help from Gwaine, who was eventually 

barred from the kitchen for sneaking one too many snacks), Arthur and Merlin caught each other’s eyes. 

In that moment, they were indescribably happy. 

“I would like to make a toast,” Merlin said, made brave by a few drinks and the overwhelming feeling of love they were completely encased within. “To our friends and family. We honestly would probably still be pretending we couldn’t give a rat’s arse about each other if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Hey!” Arthur said. 

A roll went flying through the air, possibly lodged by Morgana, but no one was for certain, and bounced off Arthur’s blond head. 

“Hear hear!” their friends cheered and clinked their glasses. “To us!” shouted Gwaine, before downing his pint. 

This time, they all saw Gwen fling the roll at Gwaine’s ear.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you thought, so please leave a comment if you have the time! Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
